Disclaimer: I don't own The Legend of Korra.

Summary: She holds the tattered red fabric up to her eyes, as if to catch tears she knows will not come, and allows herself to miss him, just this once. MakoAsami, mentions of MakoKorra, oneshot

This just...kind of came to me. I wanted to write for Asami, and I wanted to write more LoK stuff. And here this is. Another short piece, but I hope everyone enjoys! Thanks so much for reading!


To Have Lost


Like a beacon, the scarlet fabric hangs out to dry on the clothesline.

Asami walks outside and starts taking the clothes off the line. It's the least she can do, helping the airbenders who have adopted her just as they have the two brothers and the Avatar. Her hands are precise as they unclip the clothing from the line - Tenzin's robes; Pema's dresses; the kids' clothes, tinier than most, stand out in particular. Bolin's clothes, Korra's garbs. They all land in her basket one by one, forming a mass of cloth. Soon, the line is all cleared.

Except for one thing.

That scarf.

She wonders for a moment if this was purposeful on her part, leaving this for last. She'd like to think not, but she isn't sure if she's lying to herself or not. Mako's clothes were the last taken off the line, and lay atop the others in the basket she brought from inside.

Asami stares at the scarf, fluttering harmlessly in the light, early afternoon breeze.

She's surprised that he even allowed Pema to wash it. Asami remembers just how dirty it was, how Mako was almost childish in his desire to part with it. She smiles a bit at that memory.

After staring at the scarf for a moment longer, she unpins it from the line. The fabric of it is worn with age. She remembers trapping it in her fingers as she pressed her lips to his, so happy, so light, so unburdened.

No, she insists. None of that.

It is what she's been telling herself since the breakup.

She will not allow for sadness or regret. She will not cry for him. She has been stubborn about this, adamant in her defiance and she will not break now.

This is what makes her hate herself for holding onto the scarf a bit longer then she should.

Asami finds that she can't help it. She thinks it could be because she has denied thoughts of losing him for so long, and this stupid piece of material is the straw that broke her back. Her fingers play with the cloth, tentative and yet curious. It slinks over her hands like a snake. It even still smells like him - of ash and spice and loss - but she tries not to focus on that. Tries to think of other things, of what Pema is cooking for supper, if Bolin has realized Jinora's crush on him yet, if Mako and Korra are holding hands...

And that does it.

The unbidden thought, silly and girlish, the thing of children, does her in and makes her be selfish.

She holds the tattered red fabric up to her eyes, as if to catch tears she knows will not come, and allows herself to miss him, just this once.


End.